


Hotel room

by P_Dunton



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Infidelity, Mary Lives, Mary Morstan Lives, Post-Season/Series 03, Pregnancy, Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-17 08:01:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15456861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/P_Dunton/pseuds/P_Dunton
Summary: Molly marries Tom. She convinces herself that she is happy. It's time to forget Sherlock and stay with her husband "to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish"... But Sherlock has a case and he needs Molly to participate.





	1. It kills me that you're married...

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote that I accepted prompts on tumblr and that's what I got:
> 
> "There's a song I’ve listened to and whenever I hear it it reminds me of Sherlock and Molly. This is the song (there was a link to the song "Don't give me those eyes" by James Blunt).
> 
> So Molly married Tom but Sherlock has asked Molly to help him with a case in America".
> 
> This is not really the songfic, but I was really inspired by James Blunt (come on! like you wouldn't be! :)).
> 
> Originally I thought I would be writing one-shots from the prompts I would be receiving, but this idea turned out to be a three-chapter fic.
> 
> Please take a notice that English is not my native language and this fic has no beta yet. If anyone wants to participate as one, just let me know).
> 
> And please, somebody, explain me how to insert the link into comments, I really want to leave a link to my tumblr page here :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly married Tom. Tom is perfect, but is he really enough for her? And what happens when Sherlock asks Molly to join him on a case in America.
> 
> So, here you go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my prompt fic from tumblr. And the idea was the following:
> 
> "There a song I’ve listened to and whenever I hear it it reminds me of Sherlock and Molly this is the song 
> 
>  
> 
> [Youtube link to the song](https://youtu.be/7a386abQE_Y)
> 
>  
> 
> So Molly married Tom but Sherlock has asked Molly to help him with a case in America".
> 
> So, here you go!
> 
> English is not my native language and I have no beta for this fic, so all mistakes are mine.

****

 

**Chapter 1.**

_“…(it) Kills me that you're married  
'Cause we know that should be done…”_

**“Don't Give Me Those Eyes” by James Blunt.**

"Thomas Williams, do you take this Molly Hooper as your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?" the priest asked, and Molly felt the goosebumps running down her skin.

Oh, how she wished those goosebumps were the goosebumps of happiness! It was her wedding day and it could be considered perfect. Everything around her was just like she had dreamt it to be. She was wearing a perfect white dress, her hair was gathered into a neat updo, and her make-up was flawless for the first time in her life. Her fiancée stood in front of her and watched her in adoration. Her mother was there too and was wiping her tears of happiness. They even ordered those bloody pigeons! Pigeons, for God’s sake! They were going to release them into the sky right after the wedding service.

They had ordered the cake, and the catering company that they had made contract with promised that the food at the reception would be great. Even the weather was perfect! It was sunny and warm and there was not a single cloud in the sky. But still for some reason she didn’t feel happy.

“I do,” Tom said, smiling brightly.

“And do you, Molly Hooper, take this Thomas Williams as your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?”

She gulped. She wasn’t even religious! It had been Tom’s wish to be married in a church by a priest. Her hands were shacking when she took the second wedding band in her hand.

“I do…” she said, and her voice was weak.

“If anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace,” the priest asked the guests.

For a second she hoped that someone would say something. She looked around the room trying to find Sherlock’s face. There were John and Mary, now heavily pregnant, Greg Lestrade and his new girlfriend, there was also Mrs. Hudson with her date, but there was no Sherlock.

_“Of course he didn’t show up!”_ she thought. _“Forget him! It’s your wedding day and you have the best fiancée in the world! You love him and he loves you back! Be happy!”_

No one said anything and the priest completed the ceremony. They were now man and wife… Till death did they part.

 

She came back to work two weeks after the wedding. She was well tanned after their honeymoon in Italy and she felt... content. Molly had always dreamt to go to Scotland for her honeymoon, but Tom had been so excited about going to Italy that she’d decided against telling him about her wish. After all, Italy was nice, and she liked the food there very much. Her sadness from the wedding day had faded. Tom was her husband now and she was satisfied with that. He loved her, she loved him back and there was nothing except for the bright future ahead of them, end of story!

“Oh, Molly, you are finally here,” she heard the voice, and her heart skipped a beat. “You’ve been absent for two weeks, I need your opinion on something.”

“Hello, Sherlock,” she frowned. “Thank you so much for your kind congratulations.”

“I didn’t say…”

“Exactly!”

She put her bag on the chair near the entrance and raised her head to face him.

“Molly, we don’t have time for any…”

“And who exactly are _we_ , Sherlock?” she narrowed her eyes. “Do you know the precise reason of my absence?”

“I… have no idea,” he said and she noticed how he lowered his eyes for a moment.

“Oh, don’t you?” she smirked. “Well, I’ll tell you Sherlock. I got married two weeks ago. You know what it means, don’t you? Marriage, I mean. You know, family? Husband, kids, having a dog and making decisions together? Does it ring a bell for you? And I actually sent you an invitation and was expecting you to come to my wedding.”

“I must have forgotten,” he muttered, not looking at her now.

She wondered for a moment what he had been thinking. Did he feel guilty? Was he sorry?

“ _Most unlikely,_ ” she thought bitterly.

It was definitely a very good decision to marry Tom.

“Of course, you have,” she sighed. “Well, you know, I used to help you before because I considered you my friend. Well, I was wrong, I guess. And now, whenever you need my help, you’ll ask in advance. I won’t be coming to you in the middle of the night unless I have a shift, I won’t be here for Christmas and other family holidays and I definitely won’t be staying late when you need somebody to perform an autopsy for you. I have a husband to come home to now, Sherlock. And you will respect that!”

She was quite surprised with herself. She wasn’t stammering anymore when Sherlock was around, she could get angry and show him that. It was probably the side effect of being married. She was meant for somebody else now, she had to protect the interests of her family and it gave her so much strength!

Sherlock looked confused. She could see that his eyes that were still able to capture hers quite easily were roaming around the room as if he had been looking for support.

“I’m sorry, Molly,” he suddenly said. “Forgive me.”

He seemed sad now, and it was clearly too hard for him to look her in the eyes. He looked so lost that she felt a sudden urge to hug him. She had almost succumbed to it, but resisted at the very last moment.

“Its fine, Sherlock,” she said instead. “You just have to show me some respect from now on if you want to cooperate.”

Suddenly, his gaze became much more intense.

“I have always respected you, Molly,” he said.

“Well, it seems, you’ve forgotten to show it to me.”

“I always work with you. You are the only pathologist I trust. What is this if not respect?”

She froze. He had his point, of course. He had unintentionally hurt her for so many times, but he always asked for her when he needed help. He could come to her flat in the middle of the night and pull her out of bed to see something that he had considered important, and he had always declined the possibility to work with other pathologists. It was very annoying sometimes, but, if she’d been honest with herself, it always pleased her greatly.

“Anyway, Sherlock,” she sighed. “Today’s my first working day after a long holiday. Whatever you have on your list will wait. Come back after lunch. And when I say after lunch it means that I will go to the canteen and have lunch there, no crisps or coke or even coffee. I will eat properly and then we can talk.”

To her surprise he didn’t argue. With a short nod he left the morgue, and she heard his steps in the corridor. Molly sighed heavily and looked at the picture of her and Tom on her mobile. She had to finally begin her working day.

“So, what is it?” she smiled lightly at him when he entered the morgue short time after she’d come back from her lunch break.

“Molly, I need you to help me to solve a case,” he looked slightly lost and she remembered that time when they’d gone to solve crimes together. The thought of it made her smile.

“Did you and John have a fight again?” she smirked.

Sherlock and John had been on good terms again. John’s wife’s due date was very soon, but he still went out on cases. It surprised Molly a bit when Mary had told her about it, but Mary was completely fine with that.

“No, John can’t help me this time. Because I need your expertise on a body.”

“Okay… Is it in Barts already?”

“No. No, it isn’t and it won’t be. The body I am talking about is in the morgue in Las Vegas at the moment. I have spent the last two weeks on a case in the United States and I don’t trust their pathologists.”

Molly grinned, imagining how hard it had been for her colleagues in the States, but then she realized what Sherlock had been asking her.

“Sherlock, do you want me to go to the States with you?”

“Yes, Molly. Yes, I do.”

“Sherlock, I can’t… I told you, I…”

“You’ll be generously rewarded for your help. The case is a matter of the national security, and I was requested by Mycroft to take it. John told me, you and Tom saved money for a new flat. I assume that was the reason why your honeymoon lasted for two weeks only. Your compensation will be quite sufficient in case you agree to assist me. And you won’t have to spare a dollar on your trip, it will all be covered. It won’t last longer than a week.”

Molly didn’t really know what to think. That was true. Tom wanted to move into a new flat, to find something bigger than their current location was. They’d been discussing the possibility of having a child for some time now. Molly had always desperately wanted to have a child, but her desire of having one was nothing in comparison to the desire Tom had. He was crazy about it, but he didn’t want to start trying before they moved into a larger flat. They wanted their child to have a spacious nursery, after all, and Molly had also dreamt of living not far from some park. But flats in London were so expensive! That was why the offer Sherlock had made was very tempting. She, however, didn’t know if it was okay to leave Tom and to go somewhere with Sherlock.

They had had conflicts about the fact that Sherlock was crossing their personal boarders so often. Her husband was kind but even he had been getting mad with her when Sherlock asked her to come to the morgue in the middle of the night. Molly was thanking God for the fact that her husband hadn’t known about her crush on the consulting detective during the time she and Tom had been engaged. Tom had already had hard time letting her go to Sherlock at night, what would he think if he knew how deeply in love with Sherlock Molly had been before the detective faked his death. Actually, Tom was still unaware of any of it. And maybe that was what gave her the chance to go.

“I have just gotten back from my holiday. I don’t know if Mike will let me go…”

“It will be figured out, Molly, don’t worry. It is a matter of the national security as I’ve told you already, so Stamford won’t be against it.”

She hesitated for another minute.

“I didn’t think they had morgues in Las Vegas,” she murmured. “I thought people didn’t die there at all… Too happy a place to die.”

“People die everywhere, Molly. You should know that better than anyone,” she looked at him and saw that he was smiling sadly at her. “Just sat yes… Please.”

The look on his face was hard for her to understand. He looked sad and for some reason… hopeful.

“I need to speak with Tom,” she said.

***

“It won’t take longer than a week, darling!” it was the second hour of this conversation and Molly had started to get really annoyed.

“Yes, but you will be in another country with some other man!”

“I will be helping him and nothing else! And he is not some other man, he is Sherlock! And knowing Sherlock, he’ll probably be spending all his free time in his room, solving cases on his mobile phone. Common, love! We can buy a flat with this money! And I can skype you several times a day while I’m there!”

“There’s 8-hours’ time difference!”

“Then I can text you!”

Tom exhaled loudly.

“I don’t like it, Molly. This Sherlock-guy…”

She came closer to him and put her arms on his chest.

“This Sherlock-guy is not my husband.”

Tenderly, Tom kissed her.

“Okay, love. But please, text me.”

***

“Have you ever being to the United States?” Sherlock asked her, and she was quite surprised that he’d been the one to initiate the conversation.

It was quite unlike him to talk to her at all without a reason. She knew that and that is why she had prepared for the silent 11-hours flight. She had taken a book with her and had hoped that there would be a possibility to watch some films during the flight. To her pleasure the reality was much better than her expectations.

They were sitting in the first class and she had so much space for her legs that she could probably easily stretch between two seats on the floor and some of space would still remain. The flight attendants were overly pleasant, and she was offered a flute of the best champagne she’d ever tasted in her life. And of course there was also a wide selection of films and games available for the passengers.

“No, I haven’t,” she answered, smiling. “I’ve always wanted to go there, but it was too expensive.”

“Well, Las Vegas is fascinating, but I think that you’d like the national parks much more. Yosemite or Yellowstone would be the best, I assume. You love nature.”

She looked at him in surprise.

“Yes… Yes, I actually do.”

“I know,” he said and she felt the warmth spreading through her body.

Sherlock behaved unusually.

 

She had texted Tom before she turned off her phone.

“Do you want to watch a film with me?” she asked Sherlock.

Molly didn’t really think that he’d agree. But she still asked just out of habit of offering him something that she’d developed during the time they had spent side by side in her lab at Barts.

“Yes, I think I would like to occupy myself with something. What are you watching?” he answered and she dropped the earphone she had been holding in her hand.

“Really?! I mean… I haven’t decided on anything yet. What would you like to watch?”

“Pick whatever you like. Just not a detective movie, please. I watched one with John once and it almost bored me to death. I knew who the killer was before he had actually killed anyone…”

She couldn’t contain her laugh.

“Ok, no detective movies for us then.”

She heard him gasping and turned to him to see what had been wrong. There was that look on his face again, the one she’d seen in Barts when he had been asking her to join him on this case. But this time there was something more to it. He was looking… tenderly at her.

Their eyes locked, and she forgot what she was doing.

“Molly…” he whispered.

“Can I offer you something?” the flight attendant was standing near them with a trolley full of drinks and snacks.

The strange spell between them had been broken, and Sherlock pulled away a little.

_“What’s going on?!”_ she thought and felt herself starting to panic slightly.

Something strange was happening. Sherlock was too close and she was getting further and further away from her home, from London and from her husband.

“Did you pick a film, Molly?” Sherlock asked casually like nothing had happened between them just a few minutes before.

Maybe that was the way she should have been reacting to everything too. She turned to the list of films that had been available for them and started looking through it.

 

She woke up from a jolt. Their plain was shaking and the “fasten your seat-belts” sign was on. She looked at the flight attendants and saw that they were all very calm, but it didn’t help her much, she was still very scared.

She had been in turbulence zones before, but this time the shaking was very bad.

“Molly?” she heard Sherlock speaking. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she muttered.

Suddenly his heavy arm was around her shoulders. He’d removed the armrest that was dividing them and pulled her to him.

“It’s alright,” he whispered into her ear. “The turbulence over Atlantic Ocean is usually a bit hard, but nothing wrong is going on. This aircraft can withstand much worse weather conditions. Now, make a deep breath, I’ve got you. You have nothing to worry about.”

It was very strange to be so close to Sherlock. He smelled so nice. She couldn’t say what he smelled of exactly, but it soothed her. His arms were warm around her and she suddenly felt happy.

It was the feeling of happiness she had been waiting for during her wedding day. It was the same feeling she had felt when she saw him in Barts after he had come back from the dead, the same feeling that was there with her when she had been told he had got shot and had survived it. It was the feeling, she realized, that had been always connected with him in her life. And there she was, a married woman in the arms of a man she loved. And that man was not her husband.

She knew she had to pull away from him, she knew that whatever was going on between them at the moment wasn’t right, but the plane was shaking and she was scared and she felt so happy in his arms that she just wasn’t able to move.

“I am so sorry, Molly,” he suddenly whispered. “I am so sorry I missed your wedding.”

“It’s okay, Sherlock. We are good now,” she whispered back.

“Are we, Molly? Because I don’t want to live in the world where you are not my friend.”

She gasped quietly and pressed herself tighter to him. They sat in silence for a while before she fell asleep still in his arms.

 

He was holding her in his arms and inhaled the smell of her hair. She smelled divine. She was so fragile and subtle that he wanted to wrap her in his coat and never let her get away from him. He wanted to keep her safe.

He’d told her he was sorry that he had missed her wedding. It was true, but not for the reason she must have thought about. He was sorry that he missed her wedding because he should have stopped it. He tried to resist the feelings he had towards her. He had told her once, on that day they’d been solving cases together that he wanted her to be happy and it was true. But, his deduction genius be damned, he could see her. And she wasn’t happy. But the worst part was that he was just as unhappy as she was. He had tried to convince himself that he didn’t fancy her, but after John’s wedding, where he had been watching her dancing with other guest, he suddenly realized that he had feelings for her and these feelings were only growing stronger every day. That’s why he had kept away from here for a while. But then there had been Janine and the case with Magnussen, and after that he had almost died on a plane that was meant to bring him to his death. He still had Moriarty to think about, but he couldn’t concentrate on him alone because there was Molly everywhere.

So he had tried once more to forget her and didn’t come to her wedding. And now there she was, his Molly, married to another man. He had to push her away, he had to act like a decent man and leave another man’s woman alone. But there he was, there they were, going on a case together. And he wasn’t able to push her away. Because it was his Molly in his arms and she was married to another man.

And it was killing him.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr. [Polinaduntonwrites](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/polinaduntonwrites)


	2. Take this love and break it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day in Vegas and things are getting more and more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I have realized that this fic will consist of more than three chapters. I split the second chapter into two and I will probably do the same with the third as soon as I write it.
> 
> Sorry for my mistakes, I still need a beta to check them)
> 
>  
> 
> But I hope you'll enjoy!

****

**Chapter 2.**

 

_“Take this love and break it_

_I don't think I can take it_

_Go back to him and fake it_

_Don't tell him what you've done…_ ”

**“Don’t give me those eyes” by James Blunt.**

 

She awoke from the light that came through the small aircraft window. She had never assumed that a sleep on a plane could be that cozy. She felt warm, relaxed and rested. Whenever she’d fallen asleep on a plane in her life she always woke up to the pain in her neck, but it wasn’t like that this time. This time her head was resting on something very soft. She raised her head and saw Sherlock’s graceful long neck.

She froze. Sherlock was sleeping and she was still resting in his arms. They’d spent a night in this position and she was trying her best at the moment to fight her urge to stay there.

 _“No, no, no! That’s a very bad idea!”_ she thought pulling away from him slowly.

She’d tried not to wake him, but he opened his eyes as soon as she left his arms.

Molly watched him in confusion as he stretched his back and flexed his neck. God, his muscles must have gone numb after she slept on him all night!

“Morning, Molly,” he smiled at her lightly. “Slept well?”

She swallowed, coming back to her senses.

“Um, yes... Yes, I did. But you must be feeling numb. I think I didn’t let you move through all the night.”

“I’m fine, Molly. I don’t usually move when I sleep. I think John thought I was dead once. He had barely seen me sleeping before that and when he found me I wasn’t moving. He said he had watched me for several hours before he started to get worried,” Sherlock smirked.

Molly couldn’t help but laugh. It was so easy to talk to him now. She didn’t feel embarrassed anymore, she felt confident and Sherlock was... well, he was normal. He spoke to her nicely and seemed to like it. She thought back on everything that had happened the past night. She had been scared and he comforted her. He apologized and asked to be her friend. That was completely normal to sleep in your friend’s arms when you were scared, wasn’t it?

She relaxed and decided to let the situation go. After all, she hadn’t done anything she could regret, had she?

“We still have a lot of time before we reach Las Vegas. Do you want to watch one more film after breakfast?” Sherlock asked.

He sounded so casually that she smiled.

“Yep, sounds nice to me.”

 

They landed in the evening and she felt exhausted and slightly lost in time because of the jet lag. But they had a meeting in the morgue where the body from Sherlock’s case had been kept only the following morning, so they had some time to relax a bit.

“We are going to the hotel now,” Sherlock said. “We can have a proper dinner if you like or you can order something to your room. Our meeting is scheduled for 10 o’clock in the morning tomorrow. I don’t know if you’ll suffer from the jet lag, but if you do, I have some sleeping pills.”

Sherlock was unusually talkative. He looked calm, but Molly could see that for some reason he was nervous.

“It’s okay, Sherlock, thank you. Dinner sounds nice, but I need to shower first.”

“Of course.”

They didn’t have to take a cab ( _“a taxi”,_ Molly reminded herself) because Mycroft arranged a car for them.

Molly stared at the street outside the car window and was mesmerized by infinite amount of lights blazing from every corner of the city they were driving through. She had never seen anything like that. Everything was so bright and overwhelming! It seemed that every building here was highlighted. She gasped when she saw fountains dancing in the distance and after that she noticed that Sherlock was watching her, smiling lightly.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said turning back to the window.

She frowned and looked out of the window again.

 _“Of course, the Eiffel tower...”_ she thought and smirked.

And then Molly remembered.

“Oh, shit!”

“What’s wrong?” Sherlock asked concerned.

“I forgot to text Tom!”

 

Their hotel was posh. The only hotel in Vegas that she’d been aware of was “Bellagio”. She had seen it in all those movies and was slightly concerned that they could have been settled there. It’s not that she wouldn’t like it, but Molly was a bit worried that she would feel slightly out of place there.

However, it occurred that “Bellagio” was not the only hotel in Vegas and they were accommodated in “Vdara” hotel, and, oh God, was it something! Sherlock and Molly lived in two separate suites, and hers alone could easily accommodate three more people. The view from the window was breathtaking, and the bed was so cozy that she had really considered staying there for the whole upcoming week.

She had texted Tom from the car and had immediately got a reply, but she still felt slightly guilty for the fact that she had forgotten about him completely while she’d been with Sherlock. She wanted to FaceTime him later, when Sherlock and she would return from the dinner. Tom would probably be already free from all his meetings and it would be okay to call him then. So, Molly showered and pulled out one of two of her dresses that she had taken for any more or less formal occasions that could occur. The dress was black and rather simple, but she liked it and it was okay for a dinner out. She wasn’t going on a date after all, so she just wore something that was suitable for the restaurant, including not-so-high heeled shoes and a little bit of make-up.

Sherlock was waiting for her downstairs and looked perfect as usual. Molly sometimes thought that he had the infinite number of perfectly fit shirts and trousers for every possible occasion in his life. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt as it was actually quite hot in Vegas and was also wearing a light waistcoat to complete the ensemble. Molly smiled at how very British he looked. Sherlock finally noticed her, and after she had seen the look on his face she was afraid that he would scold her outfit again, just like he had done at that Christmas party all those years ago. But she approached him and for a moment she had thought that she heard him gasping before he smiled at her genuinely and offered her a hand.

“Shall we?” he asked, leading her to the hotel restaurant.

The dinner was really nice. They talked and talked and then they talked again, so Molly had already been getting used to this new Sherlock by the end of it.

“You know what?” she asked him when they were finishing their deserts.

“Hmm?”

“It is really fascinating here, but I can’t help feeling that everything is slightly over the top.  I mean even the names of their main sights sound like some most expensive brands of something. They have the High Roller, their main street is called the Strip and they even have the Stratosphere Tower, all with capital letters. Don’t get me wrong, I love it all very much, but I don’t think I would come here often even if I had an opportunity. It’s too posh and I don’t understand how you can relax here, even if you have the most glorious SPA in your hotel.”

Sherlock smirked.

“I actually quite agree with you, Molly. Casinos are also not my cup of tea.”

“It’s just another addiction,” she said and regretted her words at the same very moment.

She saw Sherlock frowning.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Everything’s fine, Molly. You have your point,” he gave her a short smile. “However, I was never inclined to gambling. I play poker quite well. This is not surprising, given my ability to read people's faces, so I used it on several cases, but it could never interest me for a long time. People are just too easy to read.”

“I guess all people must seem boring for you,” she smiled, feeling a bit sad.

She was boring. She could never interest him.

“No,” he sounded unexpextedly strict, and she shivered unconsciously when she looked back at him.

“Well, of course, not _all_ people. You have John, Mary and Mrs. Hudson…”

“And I have you,” he interrupted her. “You are never boring, Molly.”

His gaze was intense and she watched him her mouth agape. It seemed they had spent several minutes looking at each other.

“So, how do you like your dessert, Molly?” Sherlock finally asked, returning to his own plate, and she had to gather her composure to answer him.

 

It was already around midnight when she had gotten back to her rooms. She retrieved her phone from her purse and saw that she had received another message from Tom. She hadn’t thought about him during the evening and again she felt guilty about it. She opened FaceTime and dialed her husband.

“Hello, love!” he answered, smiling brightly at her. “Wow, you look great!”

“I’ve just had a dinner in the hotel restaurant, so I had to dress-up a bit,” she smiled. “I just wanted to see your face and I also decided that it’s better to call you than to text you.”

“Well, my face is not as beautiful as yours, so I am the lucky one here,” Tom laughed. “Did your colleagues from Vegas morgue join you for dinner?”

“No… No, I had only Sherlock as a company.”

“Gosh, It must have been boring for him.”

She watched Tom and felt slightly offended. Her husband must had noticed that.

“I mean, darling, he always seems bored by everyone except for Dr. Watson. It has nothing to do with you. He must have spent the whole dinner not even talking to you.”

 _“You are never boring, Molly,”_ she remembered his words to her.

Tom actually could not be more wrong in his assumptions.

“Well, yes, sort of,” she lied.

“Listen, honey, I need to go now, I have another meeting today and it must be already late in Vegas. I’ll text you tomorrow and we can talk if you have time.”

“Yes, yes fine…”

“Bye, honey! I love you!”

“I love you too!” she said but he had already hung up.

She sighed and headed to her bed. It was as comfortable as she had remembered, but after her conversation with Tom she couldn’t sleep.

She remembered everything they had discussed during their dinner with Sherlock. There were so many stories about cases, interesting autopsies and strange situations. It was so outside the box for everyone else, but for him and for her it was their life. And then there was Tom. Tom and their completely “normal” life together. The one she’d thought she wanted. The one she’d married into. Tom meant stability, Tom meant having kids and have someone waiting for her at home. Tom meant the normal definition of a happy family life. But why, why didn’t she feel happy?

She chased those thoughts away. Marriage meant a lot for her, and she had always considered herself a decent woman. And so it was supposed to remain.

 

The morgue in Vegas looked quite the same as all the morgues she had ever seen, same old formaldehyde smell and lots of cadavers.

“Good morning, Mr. Holmes,” an overly cheerful pathologist in his mid fifties greeted. “And you must be Dr. Hooper?”

“It’s Dr. Williams now,” she smiled. “Mr. Holmes must have forgotten to mention that I have changed my surname. I got married two weeks ago.”

She watched Sherlock from the corner of her eye, and for a moment she thought that he had shivered a bit at the mention of her new surname.

“Oh, my congratulations!” the pathologist exclaimed. “I am Dr. Lawson, it’s nice to meet you, Dr. Williams.”

She wanted to answer him, but Sherlock didn’t give her such an opportunity.

“Yes, yes, great! Show us the body, Dr. Lawson,” he said through the clenched teeth.

Dr. Lawson frowned and went to fetch the body.

 

“Dr. Lawson here suggests that the cause of death is a banal heart attack. I, however, disagree. I think this man was poisoned and I need your expertise on that,” Sherlock said when Dr. Lawson had retrieved the body for them.

 

They had spent around 9 hours in the morgue, but in the end Molly was convinced that Sherlock had been right.

“Cause of death here is really a poisoning. According to the test results I’ve got it should be some mixture on the base of strychnine. It is hard to track, but you should know what to look for,” she smiled. “I usually check for all the possibilities when I work on Sherlock’s… I mean Mr. Holmes’s cases. You never know with him, you see.”

“It’s… It’s brilliant, Dr. Williams!” Dr. Lawson exclaimed. “I should report it to our authorities. I guess Mr. Holmes will do his part of the assignment.”

She turned to Sherlock and realized that he had been watching her. She gasped at the look on his face. He seemed… proud of her. She smiled at him and to her surprise he smiled back.

“Of course, I will do it. Thank you for your… assistance, Dr. Lawson,” Sherlock smirked then and left turned on his heels to leave the room.

Molly had to do everything possible to keep up with him.

 

In the car Sherlock seemed to be lost in his mobile phone. Molly had turned her attention back to the city outside the window when he suddenly spoke to her.

“You were brilliant, Molly!”

“Yes,” she smirked. “I think, Dr. Lawson mentioned that.”

“Dr. Lawson is a miserable newbie, compared to you, Molly! He lived to be fifty six years old and haven’t learned how to do his job properly!”

Molly frowned.

“Don’t say that, Sherlock! Not everyone has you around to have… boundless space for professional development…”

“You are right, Molly, you are perfect!”

She froze at his words and looked at him. His gaze was really intense again and for several minutes she had been completely lost in his eyes.

“Okay… Thank you, Sherlock,” she finally said, averting her gaze. “Do you need my help with something else here?”

“No, actually, the case is finished. You’ve done even better than I assumed,” Sherlock said going back to his phone.

“So… We can go home earlier?” she asked and for some reason she felt sad.

 

_“Come on, Molly! You’ll be back home sooner that you thought! Isn't it great?”_

 

But at the moment she asked this, he dropped the phone.

“Let me… Let me ask Mycroft first,” he said after he had found his phone on the floor of the car. “You still have a lot to see here in Vegas anyway,”

She smiled at him and he returned to his phone.

“Molly, do you mind to celebrate the breakthrough in our case today?” he asked suddenly.

“What?.. What do you mean by celebrating?” she asked back hesitatingly.

“There is a great bar not far from our hotel. I… I think you might like it. It’s… You would call it "quite cozy" for Las Vegas. Not very loud and there’s no glitter all around the place.”

She smiled at his mention of glitter.

“Well, yes, let’s go there!”

 

She’d texted Tom, informing him she was fine, but for some reason she hadn’t mentioned the fact that the case was over. She didn’t want to think about it, so she just put on something nice she had with her and headed downstairs.

Sherlock was right, the bar was really cozy. She couldn’t even call It a “bar”, it was more like a “pub” somewhere in the middle of Great Britain. As soon as she entered the place she forgot that she was actually in the United States. They sat at the table and she was glad to find out that Guinness there tasted like home.

They were chatting again and Sherlock talked so much that she had to pinch herself to prove that she had not been dreaming. He was just too out of character.

It was around midnight when she realized that she was very-very drunk.

“Oh, Sherlock, I think I need to go back to the hotel,” she giggled. “The world has just started spinning around me, I think.”

She saw Sherlock smiling at her softly.

“Don’t worry, Molly, I am sober enough to take care of both of us,” he smirked.

“Oooooh, Sherlock, you are too cute. Why couldn’t you be just as cute back in England when I hadn’t been married? I could just not marry at all…” she was very drunk and through the fog of her intoxication she knew that she would regret her words later.

Suddenly she realized that Sherlock was watchin her. His lips were tight. Their eyes locked and she couldn’t look anywhere else.

“Molly…” he said quietly. “You need to figure out the reason why I should not kiss you right now and take you to my room afterwards… Please, do it, or I won’t be able to stop myself.”

She sobered up instantly. And there they were, two people in a bar in Las Vegas, desperate for each other. And, oh God, was she desperate for him! She didn’t remember who she was or what her occupation was or what her relationship status was. All she knew was that this man in front of her was everything she had ever wanted.

“Molly?..“ he whispered, and after a second his lips were on hers.

It was hard to describe this kiss. You couldn’t describe something that was that perfect. His smell, his touches, the feeling of his lips on hers, everything was perfect. She had imagined for so many times how nice it would be to kiss him, but she couldn’t imagine the real thing, she couldn’t imagine this. He smelled so great and he tasted so nice, the taste of Guinness he’d ordered mixing with his own original taste. The kiss was arousing and she found the way to put her hand under his shirt. He growled. He growled and at that very moment she remembered who she was. She was Molly Williams now, the wife of Thomas Williams. And she was kissing a man who was not her husband. She pulled away from him immediately.

“Sherlock, stop!”

He looked at her and she saw him frowning.

“Molly…”

“No, no! We can’t do it! The marriage is not just a word. It should mean something! I made a vow to love him till death do us part, for God's sake! You… and I… We both need to respect this!”

“Just give me this week, Molly, that’s all I ask.”

He sounded so desperate that she couldn’t think straight. She wanted him too badly, he was all of her dreams coming true, but it was too late for that! She had responsibilities now, she had Tom!

“Sherlock, I’m… I’m sorry!” she’d said before she ran away from the bar.

 

He was alone in his room. Usually he would go to his Mind palace and rearrange it if he had time, but this time he couldn’t do that. He remembered too well how her lips tasted and he wasn’t able to stop replaying the kiss they had in that bar.

Oh, how foolish he had been? Molly was always there for him. She was there when he needed this bloody riding crop to perform an experiment on a cadaver, she was there for him when he needed all those bodies for his case, she was there when he had humiliated her in front of so many people at that bloody Christmas party and she was there for him when he needed to fake his death. But she was married now and he couldn’t have her anymore.

Even if she left Tom, would he be able to give her everything she wanted? He didn’t want to be married, he didn’t want to have children, he was married to his work… But oh how much he needed her! He needed her to be his lifelong partner, he needed to love and to cherish her and he needed her to be there, in the morgue, so that they could work together on the cases. But it seemed that she needed something else. Something that he wasn’t able to give her. That’s why she married Tom. That’s why it was right for him to be alone in his room. He would call Mycroft in the morning and would ask him to arrange the tickets for him and for Molly to go back to London as soon as possible. They would return there and he wouldn’t bother her again. He didn’t know what he would do, but he would move as far away from her as it was possible.

Molly was the most precious thing for him and he was ready to do anything for her. Even if it meant that he had to back off…

Suddenly he heard a knock on the door. He opened it and there she was, looking at him. He had felt his body getting numb when he heard her saying.

“You wanted to have this week? Take it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a prompt fic.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [polinaduntonwrites](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/polinaduntonwrites) .
> 
> I accept prompts there.


	3. Hotel room in Vegas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One week together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as always, sorry for my mistakes. And there is also some smut in the chapter, so be warned.
> 
> The "wife - dialogue" is actually from "English patient" motion picture, so...)

****

 

**Chapter 3.**

_”_ _Staring at you naked_  
_Hotel room in Vegas_  
_I love you but I hate it_  
_And we can't tell anyone…_ _”_

**“Don’t give me those eyes” by James Blunt.**

_Suddenly he heard a knock on the door. He opened it and there she was, looking at him. He had felt his body getting numb when he heard her saying._

_“You wanted to have this week. Take it.”_

 

**15 minutes previously.**

_Molly stood in her room and looked at her phone. There was one missing call from Tom. He had probably called when she was in the bar, and once again she had ignored him._

_Her hands were shaking, and her lips were burning hot from the kiss they’d shared with Sherlock. She wanted to call Tom, she wanted to hear his voice and forget everything about the consulting detective, but it was unbearable for her to think about her husband now. She still had Sherlock’s taste in her mouth and it was the taste of everything she had ever dreamt about. It was the taste of freedom, the taste of interesting life full of adventures, it was the taste of love so powerful that Tom, her dear, reliable husband seemed… She didn’t know what Tom seemed. The main problem was she wasn’t able to even remember his face because everything around was Sherlock._

_He had asked her for one week. What did he need this week for? What was he going to prove her with this one week? What did he want from her, for God’s sake?!_

_Suddenly her phone rang. She looked at the screen and sighed heavily. Tom was calling her via FaceTime. Swallowing, she picked up._

_“Hey, darling!” she was surprised at how good she was at faking her joy of hearing him._

_“Hello, love,” he smiled, and Molly realized how much like Sherlock Tom looked._

_It was always there, wasn’t it? Tom was a badly made copy of the man she loved. He was of the similar height, he had the similar curls, and even the color of his hair was similar to Sherlock’s. How had she been so blind not to notice that before?_

_“How are you?” her husband asked, and she had to pull herself together to answer him._

_“I’m… I’m fine. Just very tired, I guess.”_

_“Hard day, is it? When are you coming home?”_

_She thought about how their case had finished that day, and how she could be home earlier than it was planned. She inhaled… She exhaled…_

_“Well, we still have this week to finish the case, so I’ll be home next Tuesday.”_

_And there she was, lying to her husband with the most sincere smile she could manage to put on her face._

_“Oh, that’s too bad. I thought you could come home earlier,” Tom pouted, but then laughed heartedly. “No problem, darling, I have our wedding video to watch while you are away. I got it today from the studio. God, you look stunning there!”_

_Her smile was very weak. Oh yes, their wedding. The wedding where she had dreamt of Sherlock to appear and to stop the whole process._

_“Darling, are you all right?” Tom had probably noticed that she looked distracted._

_“Yes, yes, I am just deadly tired. Had to inhale formaldehyde for nine hours in a row today.”_

_“Go to sleep, love. You need it! Text me when you’re awake.”_

_“Of course! Good night, darling!”_

_“Good night! I love you!”_

_“I… I love you too…”_

_She hung up. Her hands were still shaking and she took a deep breath. And then, after a second, she was out of her suite._

_The look on Sherlock’s face when he had opened the door for her could only be described as astonished._

_“You wanted to have this week. Take it,” she said._

**Present.**

The following few moments would be engraved in his memory forever. The way he pulled her to herself, the sound the door to his suite had made when he shut it close, Molly’s moans that were so full of lust and passion, the way she wrapped her legs around his waist when he pressed her into the wall, he would never be able to forget any of it. She overloaded his feelings, she was everywhere, and it was almost too much for him.

Sherlock had never been led by his emotions before. He, Sherlock Holmes, had never been anything but his brilliant mind. John had changed him quite a bit of course but Sherlock would be having a hard time admitting it.

But he would never be able to ignore or to decline the feelings he had had for Molly at the moment when he kissed his way from her chin down to her neck. He couldn’t name them, but he knew he had them and he also knew that he had never felt anything like that before.

She smelled so wonderful and she was so fragile that he was afraid to break her with one wrong movement. However, he couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t stop pressing her into the wall of that hotel room until he heard her groaning.

“Sherlock...” she whispered when he took one of her nipples into his mouth. “Sherlock, harder...”

He was afraid that he would make her nipple bleed but couldn’t stop himself from clenching his teeth harder around it. She screamed and he carried her to his (their) bed. For this week he wouldn’t let her sleep anywhere else.

What was he going to achieve when he had asked her for this week? If he was completely honest with himself, he didn’t know that. All he knew was that he wanted Molly for as much time as it was possible. Did he want her to leave Tom when this week was over? Yes, absolutely! But what would he do if she did it? What would he offer her in exchange?

He could think about it later, because Molly was already under him in their bed and he felt his hardened cock pressing into her thigh. She had already taken off her blouse, and it was lying somewhere on the floor now, but she still had too much clothes on her. He was also feeling too hot in his vest and shirt and trousers so he was happy when she’d started to remove them, layer by layer.

Her hands were on his bare chest, and he almost stopped breathing. Her palms were so warm and so tender that he couldn’t remember how to speak. He pulled her skirt off and she was laying under him in only her bra and knickers. He claimed her mouth, and then kissed his way down to her breasts and then lower to her flat stomach and her cunt. She was still wearing the knickers, but he could see that they were soaking wet. She was so wet for him that for a moment he thought that he would cum in his pants. He sucked in some air to calm himself down a bit but he sensed her smell as he inhaled, and it was almost the end of him.

With a groan he ripped off her knickers and buried himself into her pussy. He licked her folds and sucked her clit, he fucked her with his tongue until she was a moaning mess. He entered a finger inside her and then one more, and it was enough for her to cum.

Molly climaxed, and the sight of it drove him crazy. She was still shuddering when he placed himself at her entrance and thrust into her. She screamed of pleasure and it doubled his. He started to thrust into her at a frantic pace, feeling her clinging to his back, leaving scratches on his skin. And it was the moment when she had clenched tightly around his cock that he saw stars himself. He climaxed so hard that he was close to fainting. Panting, he collapsed on her, trying to regain his breath. They were lying in each other’s arms and he was still inside her when they both drifted to sleep, exhausted by the events of the day.

 

He woke up several hours after they had fallen asleep and reached to her side of bed. It was empty and he sat up afraid that Molly had changed her mind and left. He saw her standing naked in front of the big panoramic window in their bedroom. She was looking at the blazing city bellow her feet, and the city lights played on her face.

He was bad at understanding emotions. He was too good at suppressing them to name the feeling that had struck him when he saw her. It wasn’t the feeling of need he had experienced several hours ago when she came to his room, this new feeling was warmer, stronger and much more overwhelming than anything he had ever experienced in his life. She was so beautiful, and he was speechless.

“Molly?..” he called, and she shivered surprised by his voice.

She turned to him and smiled sadly.

“Hi…” she said.

Her eyes were very sad and it broke his heart, the one he had assumed he had never had.

“Come here,” he whispered, and she obeyed, coming closer, getting into the bed and straddling him.

For several moments he was lost in her warmth and in the smell of her body, so familiar but much more intense than he had been used to. She sat on him without moving and he lost track of time. Her hands started stroking his skin, and he was surprised by their softness.

“Sherlock, what is it?” her hands stopped on one of the scars he had on his back.

“It’s… nothing, Molly.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing!” she got off him and was looking at his back now, not letting him lie down and cover the traces of his past war with Moriarty’s network.

“Tell me,” she whispered, coming back to straddle him and kissing his neck.

And so he did. He had never told anyone about his years away from London, not even John, not even Mycroft. Mycroft knew something of course, after all he had been his only contact in England throughout the operation, but Sherlock had never told his brother _everything_. And now he was telling Molly about all of his battles and about how he had been on the brink of death, he told her about the tortures he had been through and about the places where he had got all his scars. When he finished, he realized she was crying. He didn’t know how to handle other people’s tears so he had just kissed every single tear away from her face.

“I don’t know how you managed to come back alive,” she whispered after a while.

“It was not as bad as you might be thinking. I am actually quite good at suppressing my feelings. Most of the time I felt almost nothing.”

She breathed him in, and her warm breath almost burned the skip behind his ear.

“And what do you feel now?” she asked him quietly.

He wasn’t able to answer her. The answer was too complicated for him to understand, and the feelings that were tearing him apart were too hard to name.

So he just claimed her lips with his and lifted her enough to enter her. This time she was above him and that gave way to the whole new variety of sensations. He was close enough already when she started rubbing her clitoris, not stopping fucking him. With a groan he spilled himself into her and she wouldn’t let his cum come out as her pussy was clenching tightly around him again. They both screamed before they fell down on the bed to gather their composure.

 

They had spent the following two days in the room, struck between the sheets, making love and stopping only to order food. Molly, however, had managed to sneak away from Sherlock to her suite to change and to text Tom.

When she had entered her room alone for the first time after she’d come to Sherlock, she was struck by an unbearable feeling of guilt. She sat on the floor near the door and buried her face in the palms of her arms.

What had she done?! She had to stop this, she had to stop herself and never come back to his room again, but she couldn’t. Her life with Tom seemed unreal now. She didn’t remember how Tom’s voice sounded, didn’t remember how Tom smelled and she couldn’t imagine what his touches on her felt like. Her body was burning. She had imagined for so many times what it would feel like to have sex with Sherlock, but never had she assumed that it would be that good. She had come to terms with the fact that Sherlock would never love her, but there he was, waiting for her to come back to him in the next room. But did he actually love her?

He was so tender and so passionate, but he hadn’t explained her why he needed this week together with her. Had he been somebody else, she would think he wanted to make her leave her husband and stay with him, but you never knew with Sherlock. Sometimes, in the middle of their passion, she had been so lost in this man that the thought of leaving him or of coming back to Tom terrified her. And had Sherlock said just one word to her, she would be ready to file for divorce as soon as the plane landed in London, but when she had asked him about his feelings he didn’t answer. He hadn’t asked her for anything and he hadn’t promised her anything. And now, thinking of the possibility to leave Tom, she was not so sure that it was such a good idea.

After all, she loved her husband. Maybe not so much as she loved Sherlock, but Tom had always been there for her while Sherlock hadn’t. Yes, Tom was simple and probably too normal for someone like her, for someone who, after all, had chosen to slice corpses as a career path. But Tom loved her, she knew perfectly well that he did. And with Sherlock she could never be so sure.

And there was also their marriage. It was important, and the things she had done were so very wrong! She felt dirty and she didn’t know how she would look Tom in the eyes. She had never been the cheating kind and it was not like her at all to behave like she was.

Tom had sent her several messages and had also called her. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to understand what to do next. And then she remembered the look on Sherlock’s face when she had left him in the bed alone the previous night. He looked so lost and so… scared. She had never seen him scared, not really, not even when he had come to her to ask her help fake his death. She looked at the phone in her hands again.

 **“The day is busy, I am still in the morgue. Probably won’t be able to text you too often,”** she typed **. “I love you,”** she finally added before heading back to Sherlock’s room.

 

They were lying in their bed on their third day together, and he was lost in the blissful silence between them. He had never liked talking, talking was foolish. Men who talked too much wasted their brain energy on something unworthy instead of using it for something right. Molly also talked too much, but for some reason he couldn’t judge her for that. Actually, after he’d come back from the dead, he was finding her company quite calming. It was probably due to the fact that he had spent too much time alone in the past two years and even he couldn’t stay alone all the time.

“You don’t talk too much,” she smiled into his chest like if she was reading his mind, and he felt her breath tickling the hair near his nipples.

“I don’t.”

“Why? You seemed much more talkative when we’d just got here.”

“I was… I was nervous, I think.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“I see.”

“Do you?”

“I think there is a huge elephant in this room, Sherlock,” she rolled away from him and was now looking at the ceiling.

He turned to his side and looked at her.

“What… What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing,” she looked back at him, smiling sadly. “Nothing, I think we just need to acknowledge it.”

“Is it hard for you? This?.. Us?”

“It… It is not, when I am here, with you. This is a different world - is what I tell myself. A different life. And here I am a different wife.”

“Yes. A different wife,” he whispered back, not sure that she had heard him. She, however, had heard him. And the following two days she was thinking about what he had said. She wasn’t ready to ask him about it though, but something had changed and they now started to talk to each other more. She asked him about his first cases and was surprised to realize that he was also interested in her past as well. She sneaked to her room every day to text Tom, but her texts seemed busy now and she had hard times adding “I love you’s” in the end of them.She thought that after several days of sex she would be tired of it, she thought that _he_ would be tired of it, but he wasn’t and neither was she. 

It was their last day in Vegas and he had watched her leaving the room to text her husband just a few moments before. They never talked about her communication with Tom, but he just knew that she went away every day to text him and Sherlock hated the feeling of jealousy it was bringing him. He sat on their bed and rubbed his temples, still not understanding what he should do. Their week together, the one he had asked for, was almost over and he was lost. He realized that it would be just as hard for him to let her go now as it would be to cut a piece of flesh from his own body, but he was not yet sure that he was able to give her what she wanted and what she needed. He thought about how he was ready to love and to cherish her when they’d been on a plane and he’d held her in his arms, but now he wasn’t sure that the love he was able to give her was enough for her. He was not so sure what love was anyway. He was afraid to define his feelings now. He felt something so strong that it terrified him. Was that actually love? He supposed it was, and it was too overwhelming. Everything was overwhelming about their current situation. Molly deserved so much but he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to give her enough of it.

He’d almost called her his wife several days ago, and the word sounded so right on his tongue that he got scared. He was not a family man, he wasn’t even somebody who would make a good “boyfriend” (oh, how he despised the word)! But he was also a deduction genius, the world’s only consulting detective, so he could easily say that had he said just a single word, had he promised her something and she would leave her poor excuse of a husband and come to him. And it would be great for him, wouldn’t it? Maybe he would even manipulate her to have a life on his terms. He would be loyal to her, of course, he would be her life-long companion if he managed to put things right, but they wouldn’t live together, wouldn’t marry each other and wouldn’t have children. They could live their life for themselves, they could be happy with each other, couldn’t they? At least, he could. Wasn’t it why he had asked her to spend this week together? He wasn’t actually thinking when he was asking her to stay, he acted out of impulse, but now he realized that he’d wanted the things to be this way. He wanted everything on his terms. But he couldn’t bring himself to manipulate her now. She had to live her life the way she saw fit without his influence on her opinion. He couldn’t deprive her of family and children and of the possibility to live together with her husband. Could he be the one for her? Could he be the one to change? He definitely could, but it scared him to death. He wasn’t able to accept the normal way of living, but he wasn’t able to let her go either.

His hands were shacking. He replayed their week together in his mind, remembering every single moment she had been in his arms. He wanted to give her so much but he knew that he would not be enough for her, he knew he would never be enough. Maybe, Tom was better for her? He hated to admit it, but this man, whom he couldn’t even consider as rival, could give her something that Sherlock himself couldn’t. Sherlock was on the verge of insanity, he realized that he had to let her go even if it killed him.

 

As soon as Molly entered her suite she heard her phone ringing. She had to pick up. Sherlock hadn’t talked to her about their plans for the future. She wasn’t sure there was any future for them at all. And then there was her husband. She’d spend a week with another man who probably wasn’t going to stay with her after their time was over and her husband was patiently waiting for her at home. She hated herself for the fact that she was not going to tell Tom anything about what had happened if Sherlock didn’t make a move on her. She was going to file for divorce if Sherlock had asked her to stay with him, but she was going to stay with Tom if it wasn’t the case, and she hated herself for that.

“Hello, darling!” she smiled at him as brightly as she could.

“Hi, love,” Tom looked concerned. That was not a surprise as she hadn’t called him for several days.

“The day was crazy… But we are flying back to London tomorrow morning.”

Tom seemed to relax a bit at the sight of her smiling face.

“I can’t wait, darling! I actually had a surprise for you, but I can’t wait to tell you!”

“What… What is it, love?”

Tom looked excited.

“Guess what? I have found an ideal flat for us! There is enough room for everything, and do you remember how you described the nursery of your dreams to me?”

“Yes… Yes… I remember.” It was true, they had discussed this right before their wedding.

“Well, there is a room in that flat that is ideal for the nursery you described! I can’t wait to show it to you!”

She felt her heart sunk. A baby… She had been fucking another man for a week and her husband had been looking for a flat for their future family… How much lower could she fall?

“That’s… That’s fantastic, honey! I can’t wait to see it!”

“You look sad, love. Is something wrong?”

“No, no, everything’s fine! I am just deadly tired…”

“I’ll tell you what! Go to sleep now, come back home tomorrow, and I will run you a hot bath! And we’ll discuss it, okay?”

“Yes, yes, of course!”

“Good night, darling! I love you.”

“I… I love you too.”

Trembling, she went back to Sherlock’s suite.

Molly came back to their room. Today she’d spent more time in her suite than she used to in the previous days. Sherlock watched her and felt his heart clenching. Something was wrong.

“Sherlock, we need to talk,” she said and he saw that she’d been fighting her tears.

“About?” he knew perfectly well what they had to talk about, but wasn’t brave enough to admit it.

“Why did you ask for this week?”

He was silent. He sat there, looking at her, and the sight of her watering eyes was tearing him into pieces.

“We...” she started again. “We spent a wonderful week here, making lo... having sex. And the sex was glorious, but why did you want me to stay here with you? You could have gone without sex for years, so it couldn’t be just for that. Sex was never important for you. I even assumed you were a virgin!”

“I wasn’t...” and it was true, he wasn’t.

He’d had experienced sex, of course, and had found it quite enjoyable, but it took too much time to find a proper partner, so he decided against having sex in order to keep his mind free of all that rubbish for the cases. He had been okay with that... before Molly.

“Whatever, Sherlock! Could you pleas answer my question? Do you feel something for me? Do you want me? And if you want me than how do you want me? Do you want me as your lover? Or do you want me as your wife? Or what? Tell me, what do you want from me?! Why did you want me to break my new family? Was there a reason behind all of it?”

He watched her in fear as she was asking him all the questions he had tried so hard to avoid. She had cornered him and he didn’t like to be cornered. So, out of habit, he did what he had always done best. He made a deduction.

“I wasn’t alone in breaking your family, was I?” he asked her, frowning. “Yes, I asked you to give me this week, but you were the one who actually _gave_ it to me. So what is going on now, Molly? You went to your rooms to have a chat with your husband like you’ve done every day since you came to me, but it was longer today, wasn’t it? Was it something he said to you that made you so upset or did you finally realize that you’d made the biggest mistake in your life when you married him?”

He regretted his words as soon as he said them. Molly was furious now, furious and upset, and it punched him straight in the gut. However, she took a deep breath and managed to calm herself down a bit.

“You are right,” she said quietly. “It was my own choice to betray Tom, but I want to know why did you need to push me into this?”

“I didn’t push you into anything,” he hissed. “It was our mutual desire. And I really hope that you can see now that this… Tom of yours is the worst choice of a husband you could have made.”

He was losing it. He felt that she wanted him to tell her he wanted her, and he did, he did want her, but with every second of their conversation he could see better and better that she wanted something from him that he couldn’t give her. That was it. He had to push her away. He had to push her away because he loved her.

“I wanted to show you, that this idea of marriage that you cherish so much is just a useless conception which had outdated long time ago. You wanted a husband and you got married, but look at how easy it was to make you betray him. Look at how easily you fell into my arms. We had a good time, Molly, didn’t we? I guess you have never experienced any of that with Tom, have you? I wanted to show you that you lived in illusion. And now I wonder if you’ll be able to return to it. Do you still want it? That’s the main question I have after we conducted this little experiment together. That is what it was all about. You thought that I did it to make you stay with me? Well, I can’t give you anything that Tom can. I can’t give you a family and I can’t give you the children you want so much. Oh, I know you want them, Molly, don’t you deny it! So, go back to Tom if you still want a house, children and a proper family. You won’t find it here with me. I am not so plain. I am not interested in this _domestic bliss_ you cherish so much. I’ve got what I needed. I know for sure now how fragile and useless this family thing is.”

“So you are telling me now that it was all an experiment for you?” she hissed, letting her tears fall.

“Exactly.”

“And you are also telling me that I am plain because I want to have someone who cares about me? Because I want to have a family and children?”

“Well, that’s something every single middle-aged woman wants, isn’t it? And that’s what you were before you married Tom, a single middle-aged woman,” It was cruel of him and he could kill himself for telling her that, but she had to be happy in the end. And the only way for her to be happy was to stay away from him.

She looked at him, and he noticed that she had stopped crying.

“Liar,” she hissed suddenly.

He wasn’t expecting that.

“Liar,” she repeated. “Don’t give me this shit, Sherlock! I was there with you, in this bed of yours. I saw you reacting to me, I heard your words in the moments of passion, I know they weren’t fake...”

“Don’t forget, Molly, I am a good actor. It wasn’t so hard to play my role with you, you are so in love with me, after all! I admit, I was having fun, hence my arousal. But it was still a fake for the most part.”

She was watching him intently now.

“Liar,” she whispered once again. “You are just pushing me away because you are scared of love... It has nothing to do with proving yourself that family worth nothing, it is all about you running away from you feelings. You are running away from me now, and I beg you to stop doing it, Sherlock.”

He was shocked at how good she was in reading him. She read him like an open book and he was once again terrified by intensity of the situation. But he wasn’t doing that to run away from her, was he? He wanted to protect her from himself.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Molly,” he smirked. “It was fun while it lasted, but now all I want to know is whether you’ll go back to your husband or will be honest enough with yourself to live your life free of this foolish idea of having a “normal” family.”

She looked at him for several more seconds.

“I may be a fallen woman and the worst wife a man could get,” she finally said. “And I will hate myself for what I have done for the rest of my life. But you are a bloody coward, Sherlock Homes. You are a bloody coward...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr. I am [polinaduntonwrites](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/polinaduntonwrites) there :)


	4. Caught in this feeling.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of their week in Vegas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the final chapter of my prompt fic from tumblr. Still no beta-read, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway.
> 
> Find me on tumblr here: [Polinaduntonwrites](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/polinaduntonwrites)

****

 

**Chapter 4.**

_“_ _Don't give me those eyes 'cause you know me and I can't say no to you_  
We can't have each other even if we wanted to  
In another life, darling, I'll do anything to be with you  
We can't have each other even if we wanted to…

_…_

_But when we're caught in this feeling_  
And I taste your love, and I taste your love  
Whatever the meaning  
Well it's not enough, no it's not enough  
I want to believe in  
In a thing called love, in a thing called love  
Caught in this feeling  
In this feeling, in this feeling… _”_

**“Don’t give me those eyes” by James Blunt.**

Two weeks after she’d come back from Vegas Molly stood in the morgue, going through her regular working routine. From the moment she had come back, Molly had tried to convince herself that everything was fine, but it was a complicated task because past two weeks had been the hardest two weeks in her life.

 

_Tom met her in the airport, and after a long tender kiss they had shared, she found herself in a cab, listening to his joyful chatter about their future apartment. They’d agreed to see it the following day, and as soon as they got home, he took her to their bedroom and made love to her. It was as nice as it had always been, but the problem was that “nice” was not enough for her anymore._

_They hadn’t sat together in the plane with Sherlock on their way back to London, and he hadn’t even said goodbye to her in the airport, but the sight of his tall silhouette, moving away from her, stood in front of her eyes all the time she was having sex with her husband. She didn’t cum of course._

_The following day she was standing in the apartment, Tom had found, and received a message, saying that the huge amount of money was transferred to her account. It was so huge that she almost dropped the phone from her hands. The apartment was perfect, Tom was right, it was exactly what she had dreamt of, so they signed the papers immediately._

_At home she and Tom had a very long discussion about how they could start making a baby now, and she decided to stop taking her pills as soon as the pack she was taking was over. Everything was perfect now. She had a perfect house, a perfect husband and the job she loved, but happiness was the last thing she was feeling. She blamed the guilt at first. Tom was so good to her, and she had betrayed him, cheating on him, and she was feeling guilty now. But after a while she realized that that was not the problem. The problem was that now, when she and Tom were having sex, Molly felt like she was cheating on Sherlock. And it was killing her._

She finished her last autopsy before the lunch break and went to the locker room. She needed to talk to somebody. Past two weeks were too busy, and she’d spent all her free time with Tom. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was getting tired of him. She needed some air, maybe not to tell somebody about what had happened in Vegas, but just to talk to a person who wasn’t her husband. She checked her mobile phone for messages and was surprised to find one from Mary Watson.

Mary had asked Molly out, and, exhaling happily, Molly agreed.

 

 

“Hi, darling, long time no see!” Mary greeted her from her seat in the café, they’d agreed to meet in.

She wasn’t able to stand up to hug Molly, though, as she was feeding her little daughter.

“Hello, Mary! Oh, look who’s here!” Molly cooed.

“Yes, Rosie has been very calm and quiet lately, so we need to thank her for our evening out together.”

“Oh, thank you, Rosie,” Molly smirked.

“Wait before you have one yourself, you’ll understand what I mean when I tell you that these little creatures rule your world when they have a stomach ache.”

Molly smiled, sitting at the table and looking through the menu.

 

“So,” Mary said after they’d discussed the latest news. “How was you week in Vegas?”

Molly almost chocked on her cocktail.

“It was… fine. Quiet busy, I guess,” she managed to smile politely. “How has John been, by the way?”

Mary smirked, looking at her.

“Don’t change the subject, Molly,” she said. “And as long as you have just tried to do that, I assume that there’s much to tell, isn’t it?”

“What makes you say so?”

“Well, first of all you almost chocked on your cocktail as soon as I mentioned the subject,” Mary grinned. “And we have also just finished discussing my husband’s well-being, haven’t we?”

Molly was getting nervous. No matter how much she’d wanted to tell somebody about what had happened in Vegas, she was too terrified for that now. She wanted to stand up from her chair and run away as fast as she could, but her body was frozen, and neither her brain nor her mouth were working to help her get away.

“And there is also Sherlock,” Mary inclined her head to the side. “Sherlock, who returned from Vegas and immediately asked his brother to help him find a case somewhere in Europe. Well, at least John told me so.”

“He… He is in Europe?”

“Or God knows where else. So, tell me, Molly. What happened in Vegas?”

Molly sighed heavily. She couldn’t keep everything hidden from the world anymore, she had to talk to somebody.

“Will… Can I trust you not to tell anybody?” she asked.

“Molly, of course,” Mary smiled. “I am very good at keeping secrets, believe me. And you look like someone who needs to talk.”

And that was it. Molly told Mary everything. She told her about how she’d waited for Sherlock to interrupt her wedding, she’d told her about how she’d almost come to terms with her new life with Tom and had almost believed that it was what she wanted, she told her about how their case had ended on their second day in Vegas and about the week she’d spent in that bloody hotel room. She’d told her about how she felt she was betraying Sherlock now every time she had sex with Tom, and about how wrong her life felt. By the end of her story Mary was looking at her her mouth agape.

“For God’s sake, Molly,” she whispered.

“Yes… Yes… I know,” Molly sighed.

“What a bloody idiot!” Mary exclaimed, and Molly felt offended for a moment. “No, no, Molly, not you! Sherlock! What a bloody idiot he is!”

“Well, he made his choice, and I can’t help it… All I want to know is what I should do with my life now…”

“Maybe use some contraception first,” Mary frowned, and Molly looked at her inquiringly. “Well, it’s not a very good idea to have a child with someone you don’t love… It was actually a very bad idea to marry this man in the first place, but to have a child… Molly, it’s not good when a child is born to help his parents keep the family together.”

“Well, it’s not like that for Tom.”

“It is like that for you, Molly!”

“Well, I loved Tom. I really did. Maybe not so much as Sherlock, but still… And it was okay before this bloody Vegas adventure! And now I just want to love my husband again. Because I’ll never have Sherlock, and Tom is already there for me… Maybe if we have a child together, I will finally forget Sherlock.”

“And what if you won’t?”

Even the thought of it scared Molly to the bones. Mary looked at her regretfully.

“Darling, even if Sherlock is stupid enough to go away, it doesn’t mean that you need to stay with someone you don’t love.”

“And what about our wedding vows? Didn’t I swear to stay by his side till death do us part? It should have meant something!”

“Molly, you should have thought about it back in Vegas. But if it makes something easier, I don’t think that you ruined your family during that case. Your family was ruined from the very beginning…”

 

 

Two weeks after her meeting with Mary, Molly started feeling sick in the mornings. She thought she caught a bug at first as she and Tom had started using contraception again. Molly had listened to her friend. A baby was a very bad idea, mentioning her current state. She had told Tom that she wanted to move into a new flat that was now under the restoration at first, and he had agreed, assuming that her pregnancy (when she got pregnant) would be much more comfortable in a more spacious place. But there it was, the morning sickness. Mortified, she made a blood test herself in her lab at Barts and almost felt sick again from seeing the results. She was pregnant. She was pregnant and the only thought of it terrified her.

 

She had made an appointment with her doctor the same day she had taken a test. Even if she was pregnant, it was still early for her morning sickness to strike. She had stopped taking pills not so long ago and she couldn’t be more than one week pregnant.

 

“Let’s have a look,” the doctor said. “Well, it seems everything is fine. You are around four weeks pregnant, and the fetus looks very healthy.”

“Four weeks?” Molly froze. “But I was on my pills four weeks ago.”

“Well, no contraception is 100% secure. Have you taken some medicines or probably changed the time zones?”

Molly felt her hands starting to shake.

“Yes, yes… I have…”

“Well, it could be the reason. Anyway, Mrs. Williams, congratulations!”

 

She decided against taking a cab or going by tube on her way home. She needed to think, she needed to understand what she was going to do now. She was four weeks pregnant, and both Sherlock and Tom could be fathers. Had she been told before, that she would find herself in such a situation, she wouldn’t believe it for a second, but now there she was. Pregnant and not knowing, who the father of her future child was.

 

She was scared, but she also realized that her baby needed a father. Sherlock would not be there for her, he had made his choice, and she wasn’t sure she would see him again. Tom, on the other hand, was there. He was there for her and he loved her and he was her husband and he also could be the father of her child. And just like that she made a decision. Tom would make a perfect father, And Sherlock, even if he came back to her life, would never know the truth.

 

Tom was already at home when she came. He looked concerned, but smiled at her tenderly nevertheless.

 

“Hi,” she smiled brightly, hugging him. “I need to tell you something.”

“Hello, darling,” he said, kissing her softly. “Me too, but go on, you first.”

 

She sat at the kitchen table and waited for him to join her. She was slightly worried at how concerned he looked, but decided that she would think about it later. She needed to tell him everything, and she needed to do it fast before she managed to reconsider.

 

“I went to the doctor today,” she said. “Do you remember the bug I caught earlier this week?” she waited until he nodded. “Well, it seems, it wasn’t a bug… I’m pregnant, Tom…”

 

He looked at her, and to her surprise his expression was blank.

 

“What?.. When?.. How long?!” he finally asked.

“Four weeks.”

 

It was the moment when she realized that something was terribly wrong. Tom didn’t look happy, he looked furious.

 

“Molly,” he hissed. “I went to the doctor today too. I took some tests, you know, just to make sure that when we start making baby again, I won’t have any problems. And you know what my doctor said? He said that I can’t have children! That there is like 0% chance for me to conceive! He told me to think about the adoption! And that is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about today, Molly! And now here you are, telling me that you are four weeks pregnant! Weren’t you in Vegas four weeks ago?! So, tell me, Molly, what exactly have you been doing there, in Vegas, while I was looking for a flat for our future family?!”

 

She looked at him in astonishment. That was all so very wrong! She felt caught and she felt guilty and she felt so very dirty!

 

“Are you… Are you sure?” she managed to asked.

 

Tom smirked.

 

“You are asking me if I am sure? Really?! Look into my eyes now, Molly,” she tried to avert her gaze from him, but he was very demanding. “Look at me!” and so she did. “I want you to tell me, you didn’t cheat on me in Vegas. Tell me!”

 

She looked him into the eyes, but wasn’t able to lie to him anymore. She kept silent.

 

That’s what I thought,” he winced. “Goodbye, Molly, I will send my sister to collect my stuff, and my lawyers will contact you soon.”

 

“Tom!” she cried, but he was already out of the flat.

 

 

Their divorce was quick, and she was Miss Molly Hooper again by the time she was six weeks pregnant. Tom didn’t want anything from her. He left her their new flat, and was happy to be out of her life as soon as it was possible. She was now living in the flat they had been renting together and was waiting for the repair works in her new flat to finish. After all, her child would have a good place to live in, and that fact made her happy. But in all the rest she felt terrible. Her pregnancy hormones were killing her, and she felt broken and lost. And most of all, she felt lonely. She could call Mary, of course, or she could call Meena and ask them to make her company, but they were not the ones she needed. She wanted Sherlock, and Sherlock didn’t want to have anything in common with her anymore.

 

It was her seventh week of pregnancy when the doors to the morgue opened and she was surprised to see Mycroft Holmes standing in the doorway.

 

“Good morning, Miss Hooper, how are you?” he asked, smiling politely.

 

 _“How on earth does he know that I am Hooper again?”_ she thought, but then just shook her head.

 

Of course, he knew. Mycroft Holmes knew everything about everyone, who was somehow connected with his brother. Molly only hoped that the news of her pregnancy hasn’t reached his ears yet. She was not ready to discuss it with him now.

 

“Mycroft, hello! How can I help you?” she greeted.

He looked at the body that lay in front of her on the slab.

“Isn’t your work dangerous for the baby?” he asked.

And there it was. Her hopes of being left alone were dashed by a single question.

“It’s okay for now,” she forced a smile. “But as soon as it is not, I will be moved to the lab and paper work, don’t worry.”

Mycroft frowned.

“Miss Hooper, there’s no need to worry about anything. I am here to make sure, you have everything you need for your pregnancy.”

She felt anger starting to burn in her chest.

“I don’t need anything, Mycroft. I have everything I need.”

He sighed heavily.

“Did my brother know that there was a possibility of you getting pregnant?”

Molly lowered her eyes, trying to fight her tears. Her mood have been changing every second lately, and she was getting tired of it.

“No, no, he didn’t. I didn’t know too. I was on the pills, there was like 0,01% probability…”

“I see.”

They looked at each other in silence, and Molly had no idea of what she could say to him.

“Molly,” Mycroft said finally, and she was surprised by the fact that he’d called her by her name. “Please, don’t be so defensive. All I want is to help you and my future nephew have a good life even if his father is a complete moron,” Molly couldn’t contain her laugh at that. “I feel responsible for my brother, but I am also very glad that the Holmes family will continue. So, Molly, will you let me help you if you need anything? Please.”

He looked very concerned, and her heart melted. After all, he was kind to her, and it wasn’t his fault that she’d gotten knocked up. She smiled at him gently.

“Of course, Mycroft. Of course, I will.”

He nodded and pulled out a card from his pocket.

“Call me if you need anything, Molly,” he said.

“I will,” she told him, taking the card. “And Mycroft?”

He looked at her inquiringly.

“There is a chance that you’ll have a niece, not a nephew,” she smirked. “And the surname will be Hooper.”

Smiling, he turned away from her and left the morgue.

 

 

He’d been away from London for five bloody months. For five bloody months had he been completing this bloody case bloody Mycroft had given him. He had almost died thrice. He had killed and he had been hurt, but nothing, nothing could make him forget Molly. Every time he had had some time to think, his thoughts kept coming back to her, Molly’s words playing in his head on the loop.

 

 _“_ _You are a bloody coward, Sherlock Homes. You are a bloody coward...”_

He had tried to deny it at first, he had tried to think that he had been protecting her. He had fought the villains all over Europe to prove himself that he wasn’t a coward, but every time he’d returned to thinking about her, he couldn’t deny how right she had been.

 

He loved her so much and it scared him to death.

 

It was so terrifying to realize that someone had so much power over him. He hadn’t seen her for five months and with each day he fell more and more in love with her. He remembered every single moment of their week together in Vegas, remembered how responsive she had been to his touches, how loudly she had cried when her orgasms had claimed her. Was she the same with Tom now?

 

The thought of Tom made him furious. How had he been able to let her go to that man?! How had he been able to assume for a second that she would be happier with him? Sherlock felt lost and broken. So lost and broken that he had had no fear fighting his enemies. He had probably been looking for death. He had probably craved it, he had wanted to die because there was no life for him without Molly and Molly was completely lost for him now. Even now, when he had returned to London, he had to respect her privacy, he had to keep away from her, he had to find the way to avoid her an never see her again. He had thought at first that he was going to do it in order to protect her, in order to show her some respect, but the longer he thought about it, the more clearly he realized that he was going to do it in order to protect himself from the disappointed look on her face that he had already seen on her when she had been walking away from his (their) room in Vegas. His enemies couldn’t kill him, but that look could.

 

“It’s good to see you, brother mine,” Mycroft greeted him. “The case was a success as far as I was informed.”

“Your information is correct, Mycroft,” Sherlock answered, leaning back in his chair in front of his brother.

“So what are you going to do now?” Mycroft asked, raising his brows. “Should I find you another case or will you stay in London for some time?”

Sherlock was exhausted. He needed rest so badly, he missed John, Mary and Mrs. Hudson, but most of all, he missed Molly. But he couldn’t see her, could he? That’s why the new case could probably be his best option.

“Before you make a decision,” Mycroft interrupted his thoughts. “I advise you to visit Miss Hooper.”

Sherlock froze.

“Why would I visit her, Mycroft?” Sherlock hissed, getting angry too quickly by the mention of her maiden name. “And it’s Mrs. Williams now, you must know it perfectly well.”

“Oh, but I made no mistake, Sherlock,” a trace of smile crossed Mycroft’s lips. “She is Miss Hooper again, and I honestly think this surname suits her better than the surname her ex-husband had given her…”

Sherlock didn’t let Mycroft finish, jumping from his chair and running out of the room.

 

 

He’d entered the morgue, expecting to find her there, but there were just two interns working on an autopsy.

“Where’s Dr. Hooper?” he asked, not bothering to introduce himself.

“She… She’s in her office. And you are?..” he didn’t let the intern finish, turning away and heading to where he was told he would find her.

 

“Molly!” he exclaimed, entering the office, one second before his body went numb.

She was there, sitting at her table and filling some papers, but what had caught his attention was her baby bump, showing from under her white coat.

 

She was five to six months pregnant now, and he felt his knees weakening. She wasn’t Molly Williams anymore, she was divorced and she was pregnant. He didn’t need to be the deduction genius he was to know who was the baby’s father.

 

He rushed to her, willing to take her in his arms, but she rose from her table and took a step back from him.

“Sherlock,” she whispered, covering her bump with her hand in a protecting gesture.

He stopped, wounded by the fact that she was afraid of him.

“It’s mine,” he stated.

She nodded curtly.

“But you were on the pills…” he whispered.

“They are not 100% effective, Sherlock,” she smirked.

They stood in front of each other, not saying a word.

“What do you need?” she finally asked.

 

That was a good question. When Mycroft had insinuated that Molly was divorced, Sherlock suddenly realized that he was not afraid anymore. He wanted her, he wanted her to have all this power over him, he wanted to love and to cherish her as long as it meant she was his. He was done running from his feelings. She had been right when she had called him a coward. She had been so very right! But he’d almost died on that case and now, when he had a chance to have her, he was ready to be brave. And she was pregnant now. She was glowing with his baby inside her, and the feelings that her pregnancy had brought him were breathtaking. So, it seemed that the answer to her question was pretty easy, after all.

 

“You, Molly. I need you. And our baby. Please, let me have you both. Please, I beg you.”

 

She was crying now, trying to not avert her gaze from him. He knew, she was trying to understand his real intentions, not really believing the words he was saying.

 

“You didn’t need me back in Lad Vegas. You made your choice and you left me. You left us! I was already pregnant back then, you know! And you were scared! And the first thing you did when you came back to London was asking Mycroft to send you as far away from here as it was possible! So what makes you think we need you now, Sherlock?! We don’t need you, I am capable of raising my son alone, I don’t need you for that!”

 

She was almost hysterical now, he could say, she was hugging her bump, their unborn child, who was growing inside her, and he wanted to take her into his arms so badly! He needed to protect her, to protect them both from every possible threat. But it was him who was a threat now, wasn’t he? If only she let him closer!

 

He was trying to figure out what to do next when a sudden thought hit him.

“You said you are capable of raising your _son_ … Is it a boy?” he whispered.

She sobbed loudly before nodding.

In a second he was near her, finally wrapping his arms around her. She was crying into his chest, and he felt her bump, their baby, pressing into him. He put a hand on her stomach, trying to comfort her, to make her feel loved at last.

“Molly, calm down, please,” he pleaded, trying so hard to find the proper words. “I am so sorry, Molly. You were so right about me. Please, Molly, forgive me. I love you, Molly, I love you. Please, let me be the right man for you.”

 

She finally stopped crying, and was standing still in his arms.

 

“I can’t afford being left behind anymore, Sherlock,” she whispered. “What if you decide to go away again? It’s not only me now. I have my son to think about. And I can’t let you hurt him, Sherlock.”

 

She had every right to ask him that, of course. And, truth be told, he was terrified by what was happening. But he also knew he couldn’t leave her. He wasn’t able to leave them both, they were something that was holding him to the ground, giving him the best incentive he had ever had in his life to live and to be a better man. She was precious, she was his and she was the only one for whom he could be a different man. He didn’t know how to handle emotions, but with her it seemed natural to feel things. And he felt it all. He felt so many terrible and beautiful things at the same time. He felt fear, and guilt, and terror, but he also felt love, and tenderness and adoration. It was natural to feel things around her and he didn’t want to stop.

 

“Molly,” he said, holding her closer. “I am not good with words in situations like this, but please, listen to me. I won’t be a good dad. I won’t be a good boyfriend or husband, but I promise you, I will be there for you always, if you let me. You were right about me when you told me I was a coward. I was afraid of you, of all the things you made me feel. I was lost when you got married, and I just had to break your family not even because you were unhappy, but because your marriage made me unhappy. And I admit it now. And I am so sorry for that! I am a former drug addict and I never thought I was capable of emotions and feelings. I was always alone and when I found myself wanting for more with you, I was terrified. I am the worst man you could get, but what I know for sure now is that I want to be better. I want to be different. And I am already different from what I was when I first met you. I don’t know emotions, but I know what is it to love somebody now. Because I have you in my life. And because I love you. And I can’t name all the feelings I have now, seeing you pregnant with my child, but I know for sure that I want every single one of them. And as long as I know love because of you, I can promise you that I love this child. And I want to be his father. And I want to be your man. And I promise you, I will be there for you both. But only if you let me. Please, let me, Molly!”

 

She was crying again, but was still standing in his arms, and his heart melted.

 

“Okay,” she whispered, almost knocking him down from his feet with her answer, and suddenly he felt a movement under his hand.

 

It was coming from her bump, and it felt like someone was hitting his hand from under Molly’s skin.

 

“What is it?” he asked in astonishment.

“It is our son,” she laughed. “He is saying hi.”

 

 

She was standing in his arms and looked at his face. Sherlock was grinning like a mad man at the feeling under his palms. Their son was kicking, excited by the first meeting with his father. She couldn’t contain her laugh.

 

“Molly,” he whispered. “I feel so…”

“Happy…” she assisted. “You feel so happy.”

“Yes, Molly… Yes, I do. And I love you so much…”

And that was when she knew he was telling the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr and send me a prompt. I am polinaduntonwrites there :)


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